At Least He's Ron
by CutewithAcapital-Q
Summary: Hermione's continuing affection for You-can-Guess-Who! Better summary inside! Posted in honor of Hermione's B-day!
1. At Least He's Alive

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HERMIONE!!!! You are thirty this year but age is nothing when you are timelessly fictional!

this is the first of seven one shots that will make up the story! the continueing theme is Hermione being thankful for Ron's existance and illustrates her progressing affection for him!

First Year!

At Least He's Alive

"GO!"

Hermione froze when Harry yelled for her to leave. At that moment it sunk in. Like a smack across the face it hit her. Harry was going in there to face who knows what on his own and this might very well be the last time she saw him. Quickly she turned away, as she felt a sob hitch in her chest. Swiftly, she marched toward the fire not daring to even glance back. She felt the flames surround her as she blindly stepped over them, hoping they'd douse the shivering that was taking over her body. Although the initial ice of the potion subsided, her hands still shook.

Hot water welled on the edge of her eyes, but now was not the time to let emotion get the best of her. She needed to keep it together. She needed to find Dumbledore get Ron…RON! Her legs fell into a run on there own and she was propelled across the corridor. She was no longer wasting energy willing them not to fall, and so the tears spilled over her cheeks and the wind in her face speared them across the grime.

Without even missing a step Hermione held her breath as she skirted the dead troll. Finally, the chess room. Hermione's feet skidded her to a halt, as the memory of Ron falling before the queen flooded the forefront of her mind. The room had reassembled itself to be play ready for the next adventurer, but Ron was still right where they'd left him, on the side lines of the marble board, still unconscious. His long limbs were gangly sprawled out at worrisome angles. She cautiously made her way passed the faceless white statue of the queen that had put him there, as if scared she'd receive the same treatment. As she neared him, she saw how absolutely dreadful he looked. He was so pale, the only color he had was in the freckles that were splattered across his expressionless face. She could also see a thin layer of drying blood clumping the patch of red hair where the Queen had struck. Hermione's stomach jerked.

'_He's alright....' _she tried to tell herself,_ 'He's alright, Harry's going to be okay, and you are not alone!' _

Her lip trembled as she stumbled closer to him, afraid she might be wrong. She knelt down close to him to wiggle his shoulder lightly.

"Ron, wake up," she said softly, he didn't even stir, "Ron, wake up!" she began to plead, "We have to get out, we need to go, you need to wake up!" at this point she was freely sobbing over him, lamenting nonsense words.

Unseen by her, Ron's brow twitched. His eyes blinked open and examined the situation for a moment.

"_'_Ermione," he grunted grabbing her attention.

"RON!" she gathered him into a crushing hug, "I'm so sorry!!! I was so scared!"

"Ack 'ermione," as she hugged him, Ron's face was consequently buried in the thicket of her tangled hair, and what he said next was reduced to mumbles as he avoided eating it, "yer sumble-ing monmble muhumble!"

"What, are you alright are you hurt?!" pulling away worried.

"I said you're sitting on my _hand_!"

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!!" she said, hastily standing taking her knee out from his palm. He turned it over and dislodged a small shard of rock off the skin where it left an indentation. He began to massage the spot and muttered silly complaints. Hermione sighed in small relief at, _'At least he's alive."_

"Come need to go get Dumbledore now, Harry's in trouble," Hermione said hurriedly hoisting Ron up to his feet.

"Ow!"

"What now?"

"I think the Queen hurt my leg dragging me across the table with it."

"Can you still ride a broom?" Hermione asked, scared she would have to leave him there again.

"I think so, come on," he said putting an arm around her shoulders making her a living crutch.

As they came at the black pieces, something extraordinary happened, they separated into a walk way as if honoring a hero.

"_Wicked!_" Ron said under his breath as he limped with a little more dignity then before.

Hermione couldn't stop herself: she elatedly wrapped her arms around his waist as they walked.

"Hermione!"

Though she was starting to get annoyed at the reactions her hugs receiving lately, she could take solace knowing with Ron she could do this.


	2. At Least He's here

I'm trying to get back into writing in anyway that I can. I sorta disappeared for a while in the Harry Potter area, but I'm back!...kinda. I can't promise that I'll begin posting regularly again but I AM going to finish anything I start, even if it kills me.

I figure this was a good day to start posting again, its the late hour of the night but it'ss still March 1 as I write this so I post this in honour of Ron Weasley's Birthday! I hope everyone enjoys this and that you will tell me what you think!

Year 2: At Least He means well

Hermione's senses were set on fire. Her first breath in who knows how long, was more of a cough, or was it a gasp? Or perhaps a scream…

"Hermione!" said a voice which echoed distantly in her weak ears.

Everything was blurry; the last thing she remembered was the hideous reflection, before the world flashed black. Her eyes hadn't blinked in what felt like decades and as feeling spread further through her body, internal reflexes to their dryness had tears welling up as her frozen eyelids fluttered over them. She felt all her joints comply painfully to gravity as they too melted from their flash frozen position. She couldn't actually move yet, she was paralyzed and blind, as she waited for her body to deflate into the bed, no longer required to hold herself in a horizontal standing position. Then, a long freckled blear hovered over her face.

"Hermione, Can-you-hear-me?" a familiar voice bellowed rather loudly in her face, interestingly of all her sense, her hearing was quickest to return.

"Ron!" she tried to yell with excitement, but what she heard come out of her mouth sounded more like a strangled croak. A hand promptly put a glass to her chin and tipped water into Hermione's parched mouth.

She gulped down the water, her mouth was dry and stale, and tasted faintly of a strange potion, the mandrakes concoction that revived her perhaps. With the water she regained more of her abilities. Through her body ached in protest she was able to crane her neck ever so slightly to look at the face coming into focus.

"I was s-so afraid I would see you again!" now tears fell free, a reflex of a different kind.

"It's okay Hermione," Ron said as calmly as he could, placing a hand over her stiff one.

"Ah," said a vacant wistful voice, "Young love…"

Hermione knew that voice anywhere, it belonged to Professor Lockhart, how puzzling that he would say something like that to the two of them.

"We're just friends, you git!" Ron snapped, his muddied face was quickly reddening, and Hermione was slightly taken aback by his words.

"Gilderoy! Would you _kindly_ stay at that bed, I have four recently un-petrified students that need my attention and you are in my way!" Madame Pomfrey, the healer, also scolded the handsome, but rather filthy man, like a child. But they were equals as far as she was concerned, it was Ron's tone that had surprised her.

"Ron, he's a teacher" Hermione said weakly but still regaining her usual stern accent.

"It's alright, he doesn't know that," Ron explained quickly.

"What?"

"Never mind him!" Ron changed the subject, and said in a hushed voice of joy, "Hermione, we did it! We found the chamber, and Harry killed the Basilisk and we stopped the Heir!"

"OH I knew you would figure it out!" she congratulated him, "Hang on Harry _killed_ the _Basilisk_? HOW!"

"I don't know I wasn't there for that part," Ron said at a loss, "but he did it!"

"Who was the Heir of Slytherin?" Hermione asked.

"Well," Ron became some what sheepish toward this detail, "It was sorta—well was—it wasn't Hagrid and that's the main point."

"Okay, and what's this about Professor Lockhart not knowing he's a teacher?"

"Umm, er well, he came with us and he…er…he accidentally Obliviated himself."

"HOW?"

"Er…with my wand," Ron now seemed rather guilty to be the bearer of such bad news.

"That's horrible!" Hermione frowned at the prospect of no longer having such an impressive wizard as a professor.

"Not really," Ron said apathetically looking over at the sight of the dazed man, "I actually quite like him in this state."

"Ron!"

"What, it's not like he doesn't deserve it!"

"For what?"

"Well For—" Ron began strong with anger, suddenly stopped himself, seeing Hermione's innocent bewilderment of what Lockhart could have possibly done that deserved a memory-less fate, and then looked down at his shoes for a while. He seemed to be contemplating something very hard. He cleared his throat, "For er…being such a rubbish teacher…"

"Oh don't be silly, Ron."

"Weasley," said a sharp voice behind Hermione, "I Believe you've brought enough trouble to my Hospital Wing for one night!" Madam Pomfrey said pointedly, shifting her eyes to the now blissfully unaware Lockhart, tucked under the sheets of a bed across the room, "As I understand there is a feast in the making down in the Great Hall that I am to release all my patients to when they are fit to go. And with you here exciting them all, they shall never leave."

"Alright, Hermione come down as soon as you can!" Ron squeezed Hermione's hand awkwardly before getting up and being shooed to the door.

"You make a lovely couple," Lockhart said dazedly across the way. Hermione blushed.

"Goodness, I couldn't have done without this year," the Healer muttered to herself measuring potions, "petrified students, obliviated teachers,_ arrested _staff!"

_'At least he was here,' _Hermione smiled to herself as she sat back in her bed, tiredly pondering everything else that had happened while she was gone.


End file.
